I don't want this…

Stop…

Please….

Then it was over. His assailant gone, and he was left lying on the bed. No bruises, no cuts, just a deep feeling of shame and regret. The Scout lay there, staring at the open window. He slowly sat up with a weak moan and gathered his clothes. He was naked from the waist down, but he could still feel hands under his shirt, touching and pinching. He couldn't tell them, couldn't look the others in the eye and say what had been happening. He was too ashamed.

He pulled some spare clothes from a pile and dressed, intending to wash them later. He pulled his hat low over his eyes before he left the room. He was late again, late to the masquerade where he played the fool.

Let me do that…

Let me be their fool…

Eyes fell upon him as he wandered in. He could feel them, feel their emotions.

God, did they know?

"You going to be ready, Tucker?"

It was the Pyro who asked before putting on his mask.

No, I won't…

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

He went to his locker without looking up and without another word. He put his headset on, feeling their eyes boring into the back of his head. God, make them stop looking at me! Make them just crack jokes and act like nothing is wrong! There's nothing wrong with me!

Of course there is, you little queer

Shut up!

He picked up his pistol, loaded it, and started wrapping his knuckles. Fuck! They were still staring at him! Jesus fucking Christ! Don't look at me!

They know what you are, faggot. Little whoreboy

Shut up!

He put his bat in its bag and slung it over his shoulder. He didn't notice his hands were shaking, or that his Engineer was slowly closing in.

Maybe your doc wants to take you for a spin, like that Aussie…

"God, just SHUT UP!!"

Oh shit, that was out loud.

The Scout turned around slowly, his eyes wide. It was now that he noticed that they weren't dressed to go out killing today. They were looking out for him.

I don't need any help!

There's nothing wrong with me!

Yet he found himself running into his Engineer's arms, clinging to the older man like a scared, frightened child. He felt so pathetic, so disgusting and rotten. He felt cold and uneasy, like he half-expected the Engineer to fling him away in disgust. But the Scout needed him, he needed so badly to be held like he was a young boy, held tight and told that it would all be okay. He felt the Engineer gently stroke his hair, wrap his arms around him, hold him close.

His legs started to give, and the Engineer was there to hold him up briefly before helping him sit down. The Scout shut his eyes tight and his fingers locked, the fabric of the Engineer's clothes stretching with the boy's claw-like grip.

"Tucker, calm down… Shh, shh, it'll be alright."

It'll all be okay now

Every knife cut. Every needle puncture. Every broken bone. Every nightmare. Every bruise. Every set of eyes staring out of the dark at him. Every hand holding him down. It all started to flow away like water as he finally spoke freely about what the RED team had done to him. Everything he could remember, everything his body had told him when he would wake up in the dark, everything came spilling out in a jumble of words and emotion. He kept his eyes closed, for fear that the rest of the team would see him crying.

What all happened to me…?

There were flashes before his closed eyes. Hands pulling off his clothes, tape and wire and more hands holding him down. Tape over his mouth, keeping him from screaming. Shadowed faces with only grins and laughter in his ears. His body twisted and bent every way, fingers and dicks prodding and plundering almost every orifice. He was…

Oh god…

He was…

God no…

He paused in his story, taking a moment to press his face into the Engineer's chest. His breathing was panicked as the full realization of what really had happened.

And had kept happening every night…

And he was too weak to fight the intruders off

Hit him like a train. When he had recovered, and was ready to continue, the Engineer stopped him. It was over now. They all had listened, and needed no more details. The Engineer gently picked up their Scout and carried him to bed. It would be best to leave the room before anything exploded, or the plotting to commit a violent wave of homicides began.

That night, the Scout slept… and there were no nightmares to plague him.